Valentine's Ringtones
by Batwings79
Summary: Modern AU - "Well, Mr. Clarkson," began Elsie Hughes. "Well, well, well," came Richard Clarkson's velvety voice over the phone. "And exactly who might you be, my wee Scottish lassie?" Charles Carson sat bolt upright in his chair at the change in Clarkson's demeanor. Elsie wasn't sure she appreciated his tone of voice either but she raised her hands in a placating fashion...
1. Fields of Gold by Sting

_**A/N: Alright all you modern AU fans…here's another episode of modern Charles and Elsie. I had also received requests to do a modern Isobel and Richard and they are making their first appearance in this story. I hope you enjoy 'Valentine Ringtones'! ;-)**_

 _ **Disclaimer: All of these characters belong to Mr. Julian Fellowes and ITV. I also do not own the rights to Sting's 'Fields of Gold' and hope that they all understand that there is no copyright infringement intended...just the telling of my own little romantic story.**_

* * *

 ** _VALENTINE'S RINGTONES_**

 ** _Chapter 1 - Fields of Gold by Sting_**

They arrived at the office and began the routine that had been so easy for the two of them to establish. She took his briefcase and set it on the side table next to hers. He took his keys and his smart phone and lay them down next to his briefcase as he walked over to the wet bar to turn on the kettle and prepare the tea. She gathered all their electronics and plugged everything into the docking stations to charge and then removed and sorted all of the files from the briefcases onto the appropriate desks or into the outbox for Anna to file later on. The kettle began to whistle and he wet the tea before turning to cross the room. Neither had removed their overcoats as they moved through their paces and met back at the office door.

Now for the real start to their day. He reached out over her head with one hand to close the door. She reached up to grasp the lapels on his trench coat. He leaned towards her until she was trapped between his chest and the door. She pulled his head down to close the gap between them. Standing as they were, tucked into the corner of the office behind the closed door, they were hidden from the view of anyone who might just glance into the office through the plate glass wall along the hallway.

He looked deeply into her beautiful blue eyes and thanked whatever gods had brought her into his life. She reached up to cup his cheek in her hand, wondering how she had been so lucky to have such a wonderful and romantic man walk into her life. She watched his eyes crinkle up at the corners with the smile that slowly spread across his face.

"What?"

"You're wearing my favorite skirt," he said looking down at her feet.

"You can tell which skirt I'm wearing by looking at my feet?" She cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him.

"You only wear _that_ particular pair of three-inch heels when you're wearing the high-waisted navy blue pencil skirt," he replied with a smirk as his hands smoothed over her bottom with a small squeeze.

"You…Charles Carson…are absolutely incorrigible," she said seductively, sliding one hand up behind his head and pulling him into a tender but passionate kiss. She could hear him moan softly in appreciation as his fingers worked the buttons on her coat. She pulled back when she felt his hands slide under her coat and around her waist.

"Charles, we have work to do."

"Elsie, love, just one more?" he teased with a small whimper. She was just leaning into his chest for another kiss when the intercom on her desk buzzed. She turned in his arms and he pulled off her coat as she walked away from him to answer the phone.

He hung her coat on the rack behind the door and turned to see her bending over the desk as she reached to punch the button on the intercom. He watched her skirt mold itself to her hips and thighs and felt the front of his trousers twitch when her hem rode up to expose a few more inches of her shapely legs. He quickly turned around and _slowly_ counted to ten before removing his own overcoat and turning back to the room. He heard her telling Anna to have Mrs. Crawley come in when she'd finished having breakfast with her Cousin Robert. Robert Crawley was the President of Grantham, Crawley and Sons.

"I wonder what the old bat wants now," said Elsie as she accepted her cup of tea.

"Now, now, Elsie," he admonished. "Not only is she his Lordship's cousin, she is our biggest client."

The intercom sounded again and Anna's crisp voice came through, "Mr. Clarkson is on the line for your nine o'clock conference call."

"Put him through, Anna," said Charles into the com, "then bring in the background files."

"Yes, Sir!" she replied brightly, "Mr. Richard Clarkson of Clarkson's Naughty Nightees, Mr. Carson and Ms. Hughes are on the line."

"Carson! Why won't Mrs. Crawley or her Ladyship return my calls?" shouted Mr. Clarkson into the telephone.

"That is a part of the service that we provide to Izzie and Violet's Boutique," said Charles in a calm but authoritative voice, "we screen potential clients and business partners _before_ they enter into meetings and negotiations."

"Smart move," Clarkson grumbled. "So what do you want to know?"

"Well, Mr. Clarkson," began Elsie, "we have run a background check and everything has actually come back with rather glowing reports."

"Well, well, well," came Clarkson's voice with a rather velvety note to it. "And exactly who might you be, my wee Scottish lassie?" Charles sat bolt upright in his chair at the change in Clarkson's voice and demeanor. Elsie wasn't sure she appreciated his tone of voice either but she raised her hands in a placating fashion to calm Charles down.

"I'm Elizabeth Hughes, Mr. Carson's business partner."

"Up north, your friends would have called you Elsie," Clarkson drawled with a definite thickening of his own Edinburgh accent.

"Ms. Hughes will do nicely," responded Elsie with a clipped tone.

A tapping from the glass wall caught both their attention and they looked up to see Anna holding up a piece of paper with one word printed out in large block letters – IZZIE – Charles motioned for Elsie to continue the conversation with Clarkson while he would go out and deal with Mrs. Crawley. She listened with half an ear as Clarkson gave her the background on his company and his desire to sell his product line at Mrs. Crawley's boutique. She watched through the glass wall as Isobel Crawley flirted shamelessly with Charles. She began to regret her advice to allow the attentions when she saw him lean down so that the old bat could straighten his tie and smooth his collar.

Elsie referred to her as 'the old bat' but Isobel Crawley was a handsome woman with dark blonde hair that was always well kept and she had a trim figure with nicely turned legs. She and Charles were the same age and shared many of the same interests such as opera, fine wine and continental cuisine. Elsie had learned to share many of these passions with him but she still did not appreciate the subtleties of an operatic libretto and would likely never be able to distinguish a French merlot from an Argentinean. She sometimes worried that Charles would wake up one morning and decide that a woman like Isobel Crawley would be more to his liking.

Clarkson was still droning on about his product line when Charles quietly opened the door and crossed the room to pick up his keys and his smart phone. He grabbed his coat off the rack and motioned for Elsie to call him when she was done with the conference call. Her frown as he went out the door turned into a hearty scowl as she watched him put his arm around the Crawley woman and lead her down the hall.

"Ms. Hughes? Are you still there?"

"Mr. Clarkson!" she exclaimed. "I apologize, my assistant was waving some paperwork under my nose for signature."

"Ah yes," he sighed, "there's always the paperwork. I was going to suggest that you meet me at my shop in the West London mall."

"You're here in London?" she queried in surprise _. Well, well, Mr. Carson…it seems two might be able to play at this game._ "I'd be happy to meet you, Mr. Clarkson."

"Please…call me Richard."

-o O o-

Isobel had convinced him to accompany her to the West London Mall where her flagship store was located and to go through several of the neighboring shops to scout the competition. He wasn't sure that he would be much help to her but he did want to give Elsie the time and space required to determine if Mr. Clarkson was a partner that they wanted to recommend to Mrs. Crawley and Lady Violet.

He allowed her to drag him into several small boutiques that catered to the teen crowd and he could feel the color rising high on his cheeks as he looked around at the scantily clad attendants and the types of clothing that they displayed on the floor. They finally ended up in Victoria's Secret where he was slightly more comfortable having shopped in the store near their townhouse in the past. He listened as Isobel nattered on about styles and demographics while he surreptitiously eyed several pieces of lingerie that caught his attention.

"Their target demographic is 20-35 year olds while our's is 40-60 year olds," remarked Isobel holding up several styles of lace panties.

"Mm-hm," murmured Charles as he eyed a claret colored babydoll nightee on a mannequin in the middle of the room.

Isobel cleared her throat to try and get his attention; then she called his name. She finally nudged him with her elbow and said, "So what do you think?" He turned and almost knocked an entire shelf of brassieres onto the floor when he saw her holding a peacock blue thong and matching pushup bra overtop of her dress in an effort to model it for him.

"Isobel, please!" he stammered and turned to look anywhere but at her. She laughed out loud as she returned the items to the appropriate bins but she astutely noted that his attention had returned to the babydoll nightee.

She stepped quietly to his side and spoke softly, "Tell me what appeals to you when you imagine her wearing that nightee."

Charles was startled at the sound of her voice and turned his head to look at her, "I don't know what you mean."

She shook her head and gave him a wry smile, "Charles, do you know why I flirt with you so unashamedly?" He looked at her with wide eyes and shook his head from side to side. "Because I am confident in the knowledge that there is someone out there who you hold very near and dear to your heart and that you put up with my attentions in an effort to _keep the client happy_." He bowed his head slightly as his cheeks turned pink. "Don't feel bad! I thoroughly enjoy myself and I'm quite comforted by the fact that I don't have to deal with any _unwanted_ attention."

He knew that Isobel and her husband were completely devoted to one another before he passed away and she had thrown herself body and soul into her first boutique in Manchester to help her focus and get through the grieving process. She managed to turn that grief into a positive business venture and now co-owned five boutiques in the greater London area.

"Perhaps you will meet someone whose attentions you will want," said Charles softly, reaching out to cover her hand on his arm.

"Perhaps," she said looking up at him but her smile quickly turned to puzzlement as she cocked her head to one side.

 _ **Will you stay with me, will you be my love among the fields of barley**_

 _ **We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we lie in fields of gold**_

"Is that your cell phone?" she asked as she listened to the sounds of Sting coming from his coat pocket.

 _ **See the west wind move like a lover so upon the fields of barley**_

 _ **Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth among the fields of gold**_

 _ **I never made promises lightly and there have been some that I've broken**_

 _ **But I swear in the days still left we'll walk in fields of gold**_

Charles scrambled as he fished for the phone and slid the virtual bar down to answer it. He listened intently and responded, "Where are you going to meet him?" He listened again and although he wasn't sure he liked the idea of Elsie meeting Clarkson without him, he felt better knowing it was going to be in a public place. "We're in the area as well so perhaps we should meet up later?" He slipped the cell phone back into his pocket and glanced over to see Isobel looking at him with a sympathetic smile.

"I hope Elsie knows how lucky she is," she said softly. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise. "Charles," Isobel chuckled and linked her arm through his, "I've suspected for quite awhile but hearing the song that you've picked for her ringtone and the thunderous frown on your face when you heard that she was meeting Clarkson without you…I didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out!"

He shook his head with a rueful grin and straightened his shoulders.

"Now, help me with my market research and tell me what appeals to you about that nightee," Isobel said emphatically.

 _ **A/N2: Sooo…tell me what you think! Reviews requested, encouraged and highly valued!**_


	2. After the Fire by Amy Grant

_**A/N: Now we get to learn a bit more about debonair playboy, Mr. Richard Clarkson! Lot's of you didn't like it much when he was flirting with Elsie! Let's see where the story goes from here… *smirk smirk***_

 _ **Disclaimer: Again, they belong to Julian Fellowes and ITV…and I do not own the rights to Amy Grant's 'After the Fire'…no copyright infringement is intended but they do help my little romance!**_

* * *

 _ **VALENTINE'S RINGTONES**_

 _ **Chapter 2 - After the Fire by Amy Grant**_

She walked into Jeans & Things and was assaulted first by the loud music blaring from the speakers suspended from the ceiling and then by the half-dressed teeny-bopper who asked, "How can I assist you Ma'am?"

"I'm here to meet Mr. Clarkson," she shouted over the music.

"You're the new sales assistant?" the younger woman asked with a look of distaste.

Elsie wasn't sure if she should be insulted by the remark but just shook her head, "I'm a business associate of Mr. Clarkson's and he asked me to meet him here." The sales assistant pointed towards the back of the shop to a very distinguished looking gentleman. Richard Clarkson stood as tall as Charles but with a much slimmer build, Elsie guessed that he kept in shape by jogging. He had a dark tan with brilliant blue eyes that set off his thick crown of silvery hair.

"You must be Ms. Hughes," said the man taking hold of her elbow and steering her through a door at the back of the shop. "I have the loft upstairs as well where it will be much quieter."

He led her up a flight of stairs that opened into an open-plan loft. There was an office area off to the left and several work tables covered in fabrics and trims stood near the floor to ceiling windows along the outer wall that likely let in a lot of natural light during the day. Clarkson offered her a glass of wine which she gladly accepted to calm her jangled nerves caused by the chaotic atmosphere in the store below.

After taking a sip of her wine and a deep breath, Elsie started the conversation, "I'm sorry, Mr. Clarkson but I feel I can speak with authority when I say that Mrs. Crawley will not be interested in carrying any of the clothing lines that you have in your store downstairs."

"Please, call me Richard," he began, "and the store downstairs appeals to the demographic that keeps our company in the black for the time being. That is not what I want to offer to Mrs. Crawley." He stared into the bottom of his wine glass for a moment and then continued his story, "As I mentioned on the telephone this morning, my great-grandfather started this company over a hundred years ago making fine men's suits and clothes. Over the years, the company has had its ups and downs and we've managed to stay afloat by changing with the times and keeping up with both the male and female demographics. We are now in a position where can begin to explore getting back to our roots so to speak and we'd like to offer a line of fine nightwear to the women that would frequent Mrs. Crawley's boutique."

"Mr. Carson has looked over your proposal and your portfolio and your company seems to be in a position to make such a move," she said looking over the rim of her wineglass at him. "I'm certain we could set up an initial meeting to discuss expectations."

"Thank you," said Clarkson with a dazzling smile. "Though I had hoped to speak with Mrs. Crawley or Lady Violet beforehand so that I could get some ideas as to what they might be looking for and have several prototype garments available to show them at such a meeting. I have one or two ideas that I've developed but I really would rather work off their direct input." He pointed over to a rack next to one of the work tables and motioned for her to walk over and take a look.

From behind his desk, he watched the gentle sway of her hips and noticed how the three-inch heels she was wearing enhanced the length and curve of her legs. He enjoyed watching the expressions move across her face as she looked at each garment in turn. He chuckled to himself as he saw the sour look twist her features when she held up the first two nightees. They were part of the Jean & Things collection for downstairs but he'd left them on the rack just to see what would happen. Her look became more thoughtful as she discovered the longer and more classic styles he'd had made in a fine satin with lace trim. Suddenly, his heart contracted and a feeling of panic rose in his chest as he could hear the soft notes of Amy Grant singing in the air.

 _ **After your time of wand'ring along this lonely road**_

 _ **There will be many voices calling, mine will say, "Welcome Home"**_

He took a deep, calming breath when he realized that the music was coming from her purse which was sitting next to his desk.

 _ **Slowly…slowly we turn the page of life**_

 _ **Growing…knowing it comes at quite a price**_

"Ms. Hughes," he called out to her, "I think your cell phone is ringing."

 _ **After the fire is over, after the ashes cool,**_

 _ **After the smoke has blown away, I will be here for you**_

Elsie hurried over and set her oversized purse on the edge of his desk as she rummaged around in the bottom trying to find the darned thing before it quit ringing.

 _ **After the stillness finds you, after the winds of change,**_

 _ **All that is good and true between us, this will remain the same**_

"Charles?" she gasped into the phone as the last notes faded away. A frown crept across her brow as she listened intently to his voice on the other end. "Yes, I think so," she responded to his question. "Alright, Georgio's at eight o'clock," she hit the end call button and dropped the phone back into her purse.

She was still staring into her purse when she heard Richard Clarkson's voice saying, "He must be very special."

"Mr. Carson is my business partner," she replied setting her purse back down on the floor with a thump and taking a large gulp of her wine.

Clarkson stepped out from behind his desk and encouraged her to resume her seat. He poured her another glass of wine and perched on the corner of the desk. "That's not a song that one chooses for a business partner," he said looking her directly in the eye.

Elsie tried to deflect the conversation by asking, "You're familiar with the songs of Amy Grant?"

He snorted softly in response to her deflection but answered, "Amy Grant was a favorite of my wife's before she died."

"I'm sorry for your loss," she responded automatically.

"Towards the end, we listened to a lot of Ms. Grant's songs of faith but every once in awhile when she was feeling up to it, we would cuddle in front of the fireplace and listen to the love songs," he explained. "She thought that 'After the Fire' summed up our marriage…which was not always easy, but it was always solid and passionate. Listen to me rambling…Ms. Hughes, if you're going to be on time to meet this man of yours, you'd better be leaving soon."

For the first time, Elsie felt as though she was seeing and hearing the _real_ Richard Clarkson and she had to admit…albeit grudgingly…that she was beginning to like this man. "Mr. Clarkson…Richard…as it turns out, Charles has Mrs. Crawley with him and if you'd still like to meet and discuss concepts and prototypes, I think I can arrange something for this evening. We'll have to go back into the city proper though, he's taking her to Georgio's which is near the office."

"I have a car downstairs," said Richard as he helped her on with her coat, "if you're willing to navigate, Ms. Hughes."

"Call me Elsie," she said with a smile, allowing her accent to broaden just a bit to match his own.

-o O o-

Georgio greeted them as they walked through the doors of the restaurant at quarter past the appointed hour. "Mrs. Elsie, Mr. Charles has already arrived with Mrs. Crawley and is waiting patiently at your usual table. And this is?"

"Mr. Richard Clarkson," replied Elsie as Richard helped her off with her coat. Georgio reached for both coats and started to bend down to pick up her briefcase.

"Thank you, Georgio," she said with a smile as she reached out and took the briefcase from him. She cast a sideways glance at Richard and went on, "We may have some business that needs doing tonight so I'd better hang on to this. We can see ourselves in."

"Right, Mrs. Elsie," agreed the rotund Italian as he turned towards the coat closet behind his counter. "I'll send Tony right over to see that you have everything you need."

" _Mrs_. Elsie?" queried Clarkson with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay…so you were right!" she whispered loudly over her shoulder as they made their way between the tables. "He's more than a business partner and calling me _missus_ is Georgio's way of reminding us that we're living in sin."

Clarkson laughed out loud as they approached the booth where Charles and Isobel seemed to be quite chummy as they sat shoulder to shoulder, poring over several pieces of paper lying on the tabletop. Elsie loudly cleared her throat and gave Charles a pointed glare when he looked up innocently to find them standing at the edge of the table. He quickly scooted out of the booth to allow Elsie to sit on the inside and reached out to shake hands with Richard.

"You must be Richard Clarkson," he said with a cool tone and a tight smile.

"And you must be Charles Carson," returned Richard with a genuine smile and a firm handshake.

"Let me introduce you to Isobel Crawley of Izzie and Violet's Boutique," began Elsie as she settled her briefcase on the floor between herself and Isobel. "Isobel, this is Richard Clarkson of Clarkson and Sons, Clothiers."

Charles and Elsie both watched as Richard slid into the booth next to Isobel and took hold of her proffered hand.

"Enchanté, Mrs. Crawley," said Clarkson softly as he gazed into her sparkling brown eyes.

Charles watched the sudden blush cross her cheeks as she dropped her eyes to the tabletop and stammered, "I-Isobel, please call me Isobel."

Elsie watched as the set of Richard's shoulders and the tone of his voice changed from brash and debonair playboy to the gentle and confident business man that she had met in his loft.

"Then you must call me Richard," he countered garnering Isobel's attention again.

Georgio's youngest son, Tony, stepped up to the table to fill the wine glasses and ask if they were ready to order.

"I think we may have some business to discuss this evening," began Charles.

"Ah, but Mr. Charles," Tony interrupted, "The sea bass is on the menu tonight and it is going very fast."

Charles looked around the table before replying, "The sea bass is absolutely wonderful but I guess it would depend on whether you like fish or would you prefer veal? They also have a very good veal marsala."

"Please let Tony make a suggestion, Mr. Charles," said the young waiter with a smile. "Chef will set aside some of both and you'll let Tony know when you're ready and we'll serve family-style so everyone can try a little of everything!"

"Now that sounds like a plan, young man," exclaimed Richard as Isobel gave him a shy smile. "Well, where do we start?" He cocked an eyebrow at Charles expectantly and was surprised when Isobel responded instead.

"Elsie introduced you as 'Clarkson and Sons, Clothiers,' I thought you were Clarkson's Naughty Nightees?" she asked pointedly.

"We are," began Richard with a chagrined look on his face, "but that is our 'Jeans and Things' line aimed at our 18-25 year old demographic. We'd like to begin moving back towards finer men's and women's clothing and feel that your boutiques would be a good place to start."

"And what makes you feel that you can design a line of nightwear that would appeal to our demographic?"

Richard stared into the bottom of his wine glass as he spoke, "I used to rely on my wife for the female perspective but in the two years since her death, I have done some market research…and after recent discussions with a _very_ astute authority…" he looked over at Elsie and tipped his wineglass to her, "I think I can meet the requirements of your customer base."

"I'm very sorry to hear about your wife," Isobel said softly. Richard looked into her eyes and knew immediately that she understood. His gaze dropped to her hand on his arm and noticed the wedding band and engagement ring on her finger. He raised an eyebrow at her in question. "I lost Reginald just over five years ago." He smiled at her and covered her hand with his.

"Alright, it's time for some brighter conversation," said Isobel taking a sip from her wineglass. "When will I get to see some of your designs?"

"Elsie talked me into bringing along my workbook so I could show you a couple of sketches that became the prototypes that she saw in the loft." Elsie reached down and opened the top of her briefcase to retrieve his sketchpad.

Richard started to turn the pages in the workbook as he said, "My _astute authority_ tells me that women of a certain age become sensitive to the fact that their bodies aren't eighteen anymore and they tend to want to cover up what they see as flaws." He reached the sketches he was looking for and flipped the pad over to show her a Grecian –style gown with clasps atop the shoulders allowing the fabric to drape in soft folds across the chest and then hug the waist and hips as it fell to the ankle.

Isobel had scooted around the bench seat in the booth so that she could look over Richards shoulder to see the sketches. "Being a woman of a certain age, I can certainly concur with that observation," she began, "This one is quite nice but some women are concerned about their upper arms. Would there be a way to re-design this gown such that this extra fabric hanging from the shoulders would work as a sort of sleeve to cover any sags and bags?"

Richard gave Isobel a dazzling smile, "I can't imagine a beautiful woman such as yourself would possess any flaws that would need hiding." Isobel blushed a deep red and looked down at the table but was smiling from ear to ear. Richard looked over when he heard Elsie clearing her throat and caught her warning look. "My _astute authority_ is reminding me to behave myself and not let my playboy image take over the conversation," said Richard with a wry smile.

"Wise advice," said Charles with a growl and a warning look.

"Sometimes," piped up Isobel raising an eyebrow at Charles, "a woman of certain age _enjoys_ the attentions of a playboy." Charles looked a bit taken aback but when she smiled at him and gave a slight nod of her head, he chuckled shaking his own head and leaning back in his seat.

"What was that all about?" whispered Elsie over her shoulder as he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"I'll explain later," he murmured in her ear as he drank in her scent and stroked her back, it felt nice to be able to touch her again.

The two watched Isobel and Richard across the table as they flipped through the workbook and he sketched up her suggestions. Richard had turned a bit sideways on the seat so that Isobel could scoot up close to him to watch and make suggestions while he worked. Charles noticed when she started resting her chin on his upper arm when he would stop sketching to listen and watch when she reached over to point and explain her suggestions. Elsie noticed when he started leaning back against her so that she could more easily reach and he could hear her voice directly in his ear.

Elsie smiled when Charles leaned in to whisper, "Ah, young love."

Richard was flipping back through his workbook when Isobel reached out and closed her hand over his. "What about this one?" She asked with a curious expression on her face.

Charles and Elsie could see Richard's eyebrows rise almost to his hairline as he looked over his shoulder at her. "That one was specifically aimed at the 18-25 year olds. Are you sure it would be something that your customers would be interested in?"

He turned the sketch to show them a pink babydoll nightee that dropped to just above the navel, was split down the front with a matching thong panty. Elsie snorted derisively at the very idea of wearing such an outfit while Charles pursed his lips and began to smile as he imagined Elsie wearing the nightee. Elsie glared and punched him on the arm to get his attention. It was Isobel and Richard's turn to laugh at the exchange.

Dinner was served then and after everyone had tucked into delicious servings of sea bass and veal marsala, Isobel began to explain her idea.

"I have it on great authority," she said glancing over at Charles with a small smile, "that although men of certain age are more than happy when their women leave a little something to the imagination, there are times when they enjoy a bit of a naughtiness. They like to _see_ the curve of their woman's bottom or a peek at their hips or breasts."

"As a man of a certain age," said Richard, "I can concur that there are times when we do enjoy being rather… _visual_ …and _very_ tactile." Isobel and Elsie both giggled when Charles gave a masculine grunt of agreement.

-o O o-

Tony started serving coffee and dessert when the four of them bunched up in the center of the booth to look through the sketches again. When they reached the pink babydoll nightee, Richard picked up his pencil and started making changes to the sketch. He lowered the hem on the nightee to reach the top of the hips.

"Hmm!" grunted Elsie with a grimace. "Doesn't do much to cover the old saddlebags."

"You don't have saddlebags!" exclaimed Charles with an astonished look on his face.

"Aah… but she perceives a flaw with the tops of her thighs and would feel more confident if she were wearing something that she felt camouflaged her flaws…there, how is that?" Richard tipped the sketch towards Elsie.

"Better," she replied looking over to see Charles shrugging his shoulders indifferently.

"How about a pair of boy-shorts instead of a thong," offered Richard as his pencil moved swiftly across the page. Both women nodded emphatically in agreement.

"You'll leave the front open, won't you," said Charles wistfully. Isobel giggled when Elsie elbowed him in the ribs.

"I don't think women have any idea how sensuous and alluring the sight or the feel of their abdomens, navels and hips are to a man," said Richard quietly. " _Especially_ after they've matured or had children."

"REALLY?!" exclaimed both women looking incredulously at the men beside them.

"God, yes!" groaned both men as they stared longing at the sketch on the table between them.

The women started to giggle and the men started to laugh and soon the patrons at the surrounding tables were wondering what was so funny.

-o O o-

They stood outside the restaurant buttoning their coats against the chill and saying their goodnights.

"It's been a real pleasure, Mr. Carson," said Richard confidently as he held out his hand. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

"Please call me Charles and I'm looking forward to working with you as well," he said giving the man a warm smile and a hearty handshake.

"I know that it is awfully forward of me," began Richard turning to Isobel, "but instead of having two cars running all over town tonight…we could let these two lovebirds head home to celebrate Valentine's Day and I could drive you home."

Isobel blushed and looked down at her feet before answering, "I think that's a brilliant idea."

Richard turned to say goodnight to Elsie when Charles leaned over to give Isobel a small hug. "You're sure about this?" he questioned her bending his head down so that they were almost nose to nose. She looked up and gave him a dazzling smile.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Charles chuckled and gave her soft kiss on the forehead before asking, "You've still got me on speed dial if you need me?" Isobel laughed and hugged him back.

Richard took hold of Elsie's hand and bent to press his cheek against hers in the traditional European manner. "Thank you, Elsie…for everything."

"Just remember, confident businessman…not debonair playboy," she said squeezing his hand.

"Yes, ma'am!" Richard said smiling down at her. "Your chariot awaits!" he exclaimed holding out his arm for Isobel. Charles and Elsie watched the two until they pulled away from the curb. Charles tightened his arm and pulled Elsie against his chest as he leaned down to plant a tender kiss on her lips.

"Come on, love," he said when she leaned into him and dropped her head onto his chest, "Let's go home."

 _ **A/N2: So Richard is still attracted to Isobel….all these generations later! *giggle, giggle***_

 _ **NOW!...The original Ringtones challenge that created this AU and these particular characters was specifically issued with an M-rated seduction scene in mind so, of course, this story could not exist without one as well.**_

 _ **For those of you who are not 'into' M-rated fiction, please stop reading here and enjoy your Valentine's Day tomorrow with your special someone!**_

 _ **For those of you who enjoy a bit of M-ness, especially for Charles and Elsie, this story will be found in the M-rated section with the final chapter on Valentine's Day for your romantic reading enjoyment!**_

 _ **I hope that ya'll are enjoying the story…**_

 _ **Reviews are still encouraged and highly valued! THANKS!**_


	3. Romantic Interlude Gone Awry?

_**A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYBODY! I actually hope that you've been cuddled up all day with your special someone and that you're actually reading this last chapter on February 15**_ _ **th**_ _ **instead! ;-)**_

 _ **Disclaimer: They still belong to Julian but PLEASE…They are having a much better time here in their romantic rendezvous!**_

* * *

 _ **VALENTINE'S RINGTONES**_

 _ **Chapter 3 - Lots of lovemaking but no annoying ringtones in this chapter! ;-)**_

It had been a VERY long day. They'd arrived home just after eleven o'clock and both collapsed on the sofa in front of the parlor fireplace. They sat in silence, enjoying the quiet and the nearness of each other. The single chime of the grandfather clock in the foyer rang the half hour and Elsie reached over to rub the back of his hand.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Love," she said softly. He lifted her hand and grazed his lips across her knuckles.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said as he leaned over to kiss her temple. "It's been a very long day with two very _interesting_ clients. What say you go up and get ready for bed and I'll make us a pot of tea and bring it up?"

"That sounds lovely," she said stretching and rising from the sofa and pulling him up to stand beside her. She stepped closer to encircle his waist with her arms and snuggle her head in the crook of his neck below his chin. "Don't be long?"

He leaned down and placed a warm and tender kiss upon her lips. "Not long, I promise." He swatted her bottom as she turned towards the stairs and he headed to the kitchen.

-o O o-

He took the silver tea tray from the cupboard and reached over to retrieve the white linen cloth that he hung amongst his aprons to keep her from noticing the small barely pink hearts embroidered on it. He wasn't sure when he first purchased the cloth but Ms. Daisy Robinson-Mason assured him that it was 'just the ticket' for a romantic Valentine rendezvous!

He could hear her singing softly to herself as she walked across the hall to the spare bedroom. Since she had moved in with him, he'd found that his 'large' walk-in closet wasn't nearly large enough and she had 'moved in' to the walk-in closet in the spare room. He chuckled to himself as he bent to retrieve the items that he had secreted in the back of the bottom drawer of the refrigerator. He finished arranging the tray and headed quietly up the stairs.

When he arrived in their bedroom, he could hear the shower running so he set the tray on the bedside table and surveyed the room. She had lit candles on the dresser and mantle above the fireplace and left the firescreen open for him to set the fire. When he stood up from the fireplace and closed the screen, he saw that she'd left his silk pyjamas and his electric razor sitting on the foot of the bed. He took that as a signal that he should _not_ join her in the shower but that he _should_ ready himself for bed…and he was not to have a 'five o'clock shadow' when she arrived.

He took off his suit and hung it in the closet and tossed his shirt and underclothes into the laundry hamper. He pulled on the silk pyjama trousers but couldn't find the shirt. He looked in the dresser and then looked under the bed to see if it had slipped off the quilt and fallen to the floor but it was nowhere to be found. He picked up the razor and started running it over his cheeks and chin as he stepped over and turned the satellite radio to the jazz station that she liked so well. He had just popped the cork on the wine bottle when he looked up to see her lounging against the bathroom doorframe wearing his pyjama shirt.

"Champagne," she murmured as he poured out two glasses of the wine, "and chocolate covered strawberries, my favorites."

"Only the best for you, love," he said seductively as he walked over and slid his hands down her back to squeeze her bottom. She leaned against his chest with a sigh and smoothed her hands up and down his bare back.

His hands had made several trips up and down when he pulled away with a puzzled look on his face. "What are you wearing under that pyjama shirt?"

"Your Valentine's Day gift," she giggled and pulled him back against her chest. "Are you going to open it?"

"Patience my little minx," he said smiling down at her, "I think a little champagne would be in order at the moment." He led her over to the bed and after he'd taken his place lounging against the headboard, he pulled her over to face him and straddle his hips. He handed her a champagne flute which they shared as they cuddled and relaxed.

He smoothed a hand up the outside of her thigh and under the pyjama shirt grunting in displeasure, "You're wearing knickers."

He felt her warm breath gust against his chest in a soft snort, "They were part of the gift."

"Maybe I should have a look at this gift to see if I like it." He started to tickle her when she resisted his nudges to give him access to the buttons.

She giggled as she sat up and started unbuttoning the pyjama shirt, "It's not like you haven't seen it before."

"Pardon?"

"You left it in my briefcase this evening," she said as she slid the shirt off her shoulders to reveal the claret nightee that he'd been admiring at Victoria Secret.

He looked at her with an amused grin, "I think that was a gift from Isobel." The look on Elsie's face suddenly turned murderous as she raised up on her knees and started to jerk the nightee off over her head. "Calm down, love, let me explain!" Charles went on to tell her about his conversation with Isobel about flirting and then about men's perceptions. "Isobel noticed that my attention kept returning to this particular nightee and I'm sure she meant it as a peace offering."

"A peace offering! For you or for me?" she thundered crossing her arms under her chest which only increased her cleavage much to his delight.

"I'm sure that she meant for you to enjoy the benefits of my daydreams this afternoon," he chuckled and tried to pull her into an embrace. "And trust me, love, those daydreams didn't even come close to the vision that is sitting here in front of me right now."

She continued to pout sticking out her bottom lip to emphasize her displeasure but she allowed him to cuddle her against his chest as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. She felt his hands smooth down over her bottom and come to rest on her hips.

"Now, I received quite the education in women's lingerie this afternoon and if memory serves…" he trailed off with a small grunt of triumph as she felt the elastic in her knickers release and fall away. She sat up in surprise.

"Velcro side panels," he explained with a waggle of his eyebrows at her surprised expression. He slid the knickers from under her and tossed them in the direction of the laundry hamper. "Now I can play with your saddlebags." He gave her a wolfish grin as he ran his hands along her thighs.

"Charles!" she squeaked as she gave him a hard thump on the chest. "That's not funny!"

"Ouch! Elsie," he said trying to placate her, "I was only kidding." She pulled down on the nightee and reached for the discarded pyjama shirt to try and cover herself as she was feeling particularly vulnerable at that moment.

"Elsie! I really think we need to talk about this." Charles held her firmly and removed the pyjama shirt from her grasp. "Stand up," he said calmly but firmly. "Stand here on the bed and let me look at you." He guided her up to stand with one foot on either side of his hips and then clasped his hands gently around the backs of her legs to hold her steady.

"Now, tell me what you think is wrong with your legs since that seems to be the bone of contention at the moment."

She looked down at him and saw the serious expression in his eyes…he really wanted to know what bothered her about her body. "Well…" she began hesitantly, "my thighs are wider than they were when I was a younger woman."

"Since I didn't know you when you were a _younger woman_ , I'll just have to take your word for that," he said gently rubbing the backs of her legs. "What I like about your thighs is that they are strong yet soft. I love their strength and the way they feel when they grip my legs or my hips when I am making love to you. I love how soft they feel against the side of my face when I'm tasting you. I love the way the small crease where your thigh meets your bottom feels against my fingertips when I'm holding you there." He punctuated each sentence with his hands and his lips as he traced each of these spots across her skin. Elsie murmured softly when he raked his teeth across the soft skin of her upper thigh.

"You were astonished that I could find your belly and your hips so attractive so let me tell you what I like about those." He sat up with his cheek pressed against her navel, "I love the way your hips just seem to fit so perfectly in my hands…whether I'm making love to you or just holding you in the night…I feel safe and secure when I can reach out and curl my fingers around you. And your stomach is so soft against my cheek or against my chest or against my own belly." He turned his head to nuzzle her. "And you must have a sweat gland just here," he kissed her stomach just above her navel and swirled his tongue over her skin eliciting a small moan from her. "No matter if its day or night, you always taste salty and sweet whenever I kiss you on that spot." He continued to kiss and nuzzle her navel and belly as she slid her arms around his shoulders. "Elsie, that's all it's ever been about for me," he said looking up at her adoringly. "Touching you…and tasting you…and learning those places where my touch brings you pleasure."

"Oh, Charles," she sighed and leaned down to kiss him. He nibbled on her bottom lip and teased her with his tongue until she couldn't resist exploring his mouth with her own. He reached up to unfasten the front of the nightee and surprised her with his speed and dexterity. She giggled and ruffled his hair giving him a boyish appearance when one of his more unruly locks curled back over his forehead.

He suddenly scooted down in the bed and tucked his hands behind her knees causing her legs to collapse with one knee on either side of his head. His hands quickly slid up over her hips to hold her in place while he reached out with his tongue to taste her center. It wasn't long before he could hear the soft moans in the back of her throat as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. He could feel the muscles in her legs begin to tighten around his head when he shifted his attentions to a particularly sensitive spot just to the left of center. She grasped the headboard to steady herself as his motions quickly sent her flying over the edge. He held her to him until the rhythm of her hips slowed and her thighs ceased to tremble.

She moved down to straddle his hips again and leaned down to give him a slow and passionate kiss.

"Mmmm," he murmured against her lips as his hands moved in long languorous strokes up and down her back.

She sat up and reached over to pick up one of the strawberries. "Would you like a bite?" she asked holding the berry by its stem.

Charles shook his head with a smug grin on his face, "Nothing could taste as sweet as the dessert that I just had." She rewarded him with a kiss on the nose.

She sat up over him and held the strawberry just above her mouth. She pushed her chest out just a bit as she let her head drop back as she bit down on the berry. She felt a sudden rush of empowerment when she felt his fingers tighten reflexively on her thighs and his arousal twitch hard beneath her. The berries had warmed up and were releasing their juices, some of which escaped her lips and ran down over her chin and the side of her neck. She heard his groan and felt his arms move up her back as he sat up and crushed her to his chest so that he could kiss and lick the trail of juice and chocolate from her skin.

She looked into his eyes when he finally pulled back and found them dark and alive with desire. He gently lay her down on her back between his knees as he had done the first time he made love to her. He took the strawberry from her hand and placed it against the pulsepoint at the base of her neck and proceeded to leave a trail of chocolate and strawberry down her chest and over her abdomen. He tossed the remains of the berry towards the bedside table and hoped that they landed somewhere near the tea tray as he continued to gaze down at her magnificent body beneath him.

"It would seem that I am destined to worship your body with my tongue tonight," he whispered in her ear as he kissed and nibbled his way down her neck and across her collarbone. Her eyes closed and her head tipped back to expose as much of her skin to his lips as she could. He could tell that she was quickly overwhelmed by the way she moved and whimpered beneath him. He had just lapped up the last of the chocolate from her navel when she reached down to lift his chin.

"Charles, please," she begged softly.

The pleading in her voice and the look of lust and desire in her eyes was all it took to push Charles to the brink. He leaned down to push his pyjama bottoms out of the way and then he reached for her hips as her thighs gripped him around the waist and he sheathed himself in a single stroke. She moaned aloud as her hands began to clutch and scratch desperately at his back. He tried to set a strong and steady pace but he knew that his own excitement would push him over the edge very quickly. He was concentrating on his breathing when he heard her cry out his name and begin to move against him. He could feel the rhythmic grip of her release pulsating from her core and as her hands scratched that sensitive spot at the small of his back, he called out her name and soared over the edge after her.

They lay together for a long while, touching and caressing and just _feeling_ each other. He finally raised his head from her chest and caressed her cheek until she opened her eyes to look at him.

"I love you Elizabeth Mary Hughes," he whispered to her. She smiled at him and ran her fingers through the hair behind his ears. "Every _inch_ of you!" he declared. She gasped and boxed him playfully about the ears. "Am I forgiven?" he asked with a hopeful look.

"Hmph…if I weren't quite confident that Mrs. Isobel Crawley was likely sitting in her driveway being snogged senseless by one Mr. Richard Clarkson…it might not be in the cards for you!" She pushed up on his shoulders and then sat up to wrap her arms around his neck. "I love you Charles Edward Carson," she whispered as she leaned in to place a soft and tender kiss upon his lips. "Brrr, it's getting cold in here."

"The fire has burned down," said Charles shifting to the side so that he could move the comforter and sheets out from under them. He pushed the pillows up against the headboard so that he could lean comfortably against it and pulled her into his arms as he raised the comforter over to cover them both. She tried to snuggle herself into the crook of his neck and grumbled as he leaned over to retrieve a roll of papers from the tea tray on the bedside table.

"I hope those aren't the contract documents for Richard and Isobel," she started only to be overwhelmed by a wide yawn.

"Why don't you open them and see," he said rubbing her back and neck.

"I'll look at them in the morning," she said as a second yawn overtook her.

"There might be a time clause included so I think perhaps you should review them tonight," he said insistently.

"You seem to know what's in them so why don't you just tell me," she pouted and moved away from him to punch up her own pillow.

"Elsie," he pleaded, "please just open them…for me?"

"If it means you'll let me get some sleep tonight," she said with an exasperated tone in her voice. She sat up and took the roll of papers from him and looked down to untie the velvet ribbon that held roll tight. When the ribbon came off in her hands, she noticed something else was knotted in the velvet. She turned the object over and discovered it was a platinum ring with an emerald cut blue sapphire in the center with three smaller graduated diamonds set on either side. She looked over at him as he took the ring from her and slipped it from the ribbon. He then took her left hand in his and slid the platinum band that he had given her for Christmas off and replaced it with the new ring.

He looked deeply into her eyes and held her hand against his heart, "Elizabeth Mary Hughes, with this ring, I plight thee my troth. Will you marry me?"

She took a deep breath as the tears started down her cheek. "Yes, Charles, I will marry you." He took her in his arms and kissed away her tears. When she had finally calmed down and he settled her against his chest, she reached over and pulled the papers that had been bound by the ribbon from beneath his hip. She started to toss them towards the wastebasket beside the dresser when he reached over and stayed her arm.

"Wait! Those are our registration papers and wedding license, I think we're going to need those later," he said with a small laugh as he took them from her and set them on the bedside table. She looked up at him in surprise. "All we have to do now is set the date, love…but _that_ …we can talk about in the morning," he said as he reached over to turn out the light and snuggle down for a few hours sleep.

 _ **A/N2: And another episode of Ringtone Charles and Ringtone Elsie comes to a close. I hope you enjoyed their little Valentine's adventure. And as always, your reviews will make my own Valentine's Day just perfect! ;-)**_


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